


Cybernetics and Night terrors

by Timely_Storms



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Body Horror, Echo needs a hug, Everyone Needs A Hug, Everyone is tired, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Night Terrors, Nightmares, No Beta We Die Like Clones, but a soft asshole, crosshair is an asshole, someone please give echo a hug and maybe some food
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-17
Updated: 2020-08-17
Packaged: 2021-03-06 05:09:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,824
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25947868
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Timely_Storms/pseuds/Timely_Storms
Summary: Echo hasn't slept since he was rescued from the techno union. His new brothers might be able to help him with that, if he'll let him.(I JUST WANT A HAPPY ENDING FOR ECHO OKAY???)
Relationships: CT-1409 | Echo & Hunter (Star Wars: The Clone Wars), CT-1409 | Echo & Wrecker, CT-21-0408 | Echo & CT-7567 | Rex, CT-21-0408 | Echo & Tech, Clone Force 99 | Bad Batch & CT-21-0408 | Echo, Crosshair & CT-21-0408 | Echo
Comments: 8
Kudos: 83





	Cybernetics and Night terrors

**Author's Note:**

> hi you can find me on twitter!! @EchoandFives

The barracks were just like Echo remembered, except for the jarringly large bottom bunk in the corner of the room, two posters of a particularly familiar senator hastily thrown up on the wall the only form of decoration.

_Wrecker._

There was an extra bunk, right below Crosshairs, that Hunter had given to Echo. It was better than sleeping in the cockpit, or worse, on the floor, and even if Crosshair wasn’t exactly fond of Echo, he’d take what he could get.

“You look dazed, kid.” Hunter scoffed as Echo hastily stripped his hand-me-down armor off his gaunt frame. The armor was another gift from Hunter; normal reg plastoid hung off his body like a slack blaster, even after tightening the clasps. Echo had always been skinny, but now his body was a ghost of what it used to be.

Fighting the urge to remind Hunter that he was older than him, Echo turned to the sarge and leaned against the locker.

“Just a lot to take in.” He stretched his arms over his head, content when he heard the quiet _pops_ of his metal spine and _clicks_ of his cybernetics. “A lot has changed, besides the barracks of course.”

“Try not to worry too much.” Hunter jabbed Echo in the side with his elbow before sitting down at a crate in the corner of the room—most likely a makeshift sabaac table—and motioned Echo to come sit as well. “Want me to deal you in?”

Echo thought about it, and the gleaming smile Wrecker offered was almost enough to convince him to join them, but he shook his head.

“Haven’t slept in months,” He chuckled, scratching the back of his head, his fingertips bumping the ports in his skull. “I’d be out like a light within the first round.”

Tech handed out cards to the three vod sitting around the table. “Sleep easy brother. We will wake you if we get a call.”

Echo let a small smile creep across his face. It had been a long time since he had the comfort of a brother. The last he could remember was spending nights in the barracks with Fives, messing around and getting told off by Rex.

Echo didn’t want to think about Fives right now.

His eyelids were heavy, his cybernetics feeling like weights on his arm, pulling him towards the bed below him. He let himself fall onto it with a _pof_.

“Sleep well, reg.” Crosshair called after him, but Echo was too tired to think of a smart remark to shoot back at the sniper.

_Echo was back at the citadel, His armor heavy and recently painted. His bucket was tucked under his arm, the blue stripes staring back at him._

_“Echo,” Someone called, but it wasn’t just someone. “Put that back on before he general sees you, di’kut”_

_**Fives.** _

_He put his bucket back on his head, the strange feeling of hair below his helmet almost too familiar to him. He jogged after Fives, but couldn’t catch up. He wanted to see his face, he wanted to wrap his arms around his torso again, he wanted Fives to **slow the kriff down**. He was getting farther and farther away, and there were suddenly clankers all around them, the weight of their blasters heavy in their durasteel grip, and then they were blasting, blasting at them, at Fives—who wouldn’t **slow down** — _

_“Echo!” Fives screamed, his helmet missing from his head, the tattoo on his temple burning itself into Echo’s memory, a clear blast through his heart. No vod could survive that. Echo tried to run towards him, if he had only been there, he could have **saved** him, he could have **helped him—**_

“FIVES!”

Echo was thrashing, violently, his eyes flying open. Over him was Wrecker, who was holding him down by straddling his legs, Crosshair directly behind him, holding down his arms.

“Shhhh, kid, you gotta calm down,” It was Hunter speaking to him, crouched down next to the bunk as Tech typed something into his data pad. “Breath, vod.”

He then realized his cybernetic arm was missing, instead of being connected to his elbow joint, was in Hunters hand.

“You know us, vod. You’re safe.” That was Crosshair, to Echos surprise. He was beginning to think the sniper was incapable of saying anything genuinely nice. “Next time you punch a hole in my bunk you might not be though.”

Echo let the air out of his lungs in a ragged breath and laughed. “Sorry,” He sat up, leaning on his elbow as Wrecker moved off of him. “What—did I _do_?”

“Woke up in the middle of the night to you screaming your _head_ off,” Wrecker pointed to the dent in Crosshairs bunk. “Some nightmare you were havin’ huh?”

Echo pulled his knees to his chest, scratching the back of his head, recalling the dream he had.

Fives.

“Yeah, I guess so.”

“We’ll leave you be once your heart rate goes back to normal.” Tech chimed in, finally looking up from his data pad to peer at Echo. Hunter handed him his arm. “We’re _here_ vod.”

When they did leave, settling back into their own bunks, Echo remained awake. He couldn’t keep the image of Fives out of his head, the image of a _blaster bolt through his chest—_

Echo stood up, leaving the barracks silently. He didn’t exactly want to leave the company of his new brothers, but wasn’t sure he could continue to think about Fives. Every second he thought about his fallen brother, his heart ached a little more.

The kaminoans had told them they were bred to endure any kind of stress. Echo wondered why they had lied.

The refresher door opened with a whoosh, the lights blinding as Echo stepped inside. He splashed some water onto his face and finally got a decent look in the mirror at himself.

He was frighteningly pale, not to mention _sickly_ thin, even the bones in his _face_ looking as if they could poke through the skin. He ran his fingers over his head, just as bald as Jesse, the faint memory of Rex ripping the wires out of the durasteel ports in his back and neck. The cybernetics could be upgraded, but the ports would remain, Kix had said, the internal wiring too deep in his skull to remove without causing further damage.

_Damage._

Echo had just about gotten used to the metal limbs he had acquired, his spine now made of metal and his head full of durasteel. These things, though odd and a bit difficult to adjust too, were the reason he had survived for so long in the stasis chamber. It was the _mental_ damage Echo was worried about. He felt trapped in his own skin, and the phantom pain that Kix had told him about was _very real_ and _painful_.

“Wish you were here, Fives.” Echo muttered to his unfamiliar reflection. “I miss you.”

He found his way back to his bunk, Wrecker snoring on the other side of the room. It pulled Echo out of his own head, reminded him that there were brothers around him, brothers who _cared_. Though he didn’t sleep that night, he felt content with the company he had acquired.

A few nights had gone by, each one interrupted by Echos night terrors. Every time he closed his eyes he could see Fives, watch him get killed over and over again, and Echo could do nothing but watch in horror as his best friend was shot, invisible hands pulling him back into the stasis chamber.

He would wake up screaming, clawing at the air as the others scrambled to hold him down before he hurt someone or himself. Hunter had forced echo to stop sleeping with his cybernetics on, and one night Tech had to inject him with a stabilizer just to get his heart rate to go down.

Sleep was becoming something Echo dreaded, he hated being a burden to his brothers, and he was performing poorly due to his exhaustion.

Echo stared at his bunk, half ready to turn around and spend the night in the cockpit when Hunter called to him.

“C’mere, vod.” Echo gave him a confused look, but walked towards Hunters bunk none the less.

“Yeah?” Hunter moved over, offering a spot next to him. “Try and get some sleep. You look skinnier than _Cross_.”

“At least I don’t wake up _screamin_ ’.” Crosshair scoffed and rolled over.

Hunter patted the empty spot in his bed. “Lay down, brother.”

Echo reluctantly accepted his offer, turning to face away from Hunter. He could imagine it probably wasn’t very fun to sleep with a pile of metal, but when Hunter wrapped his arm around Echo’s side every worry he had seemed to melt away. He relaxed, finally able to let sleep claim him.

He dreamt of being in the stasis chamber again, the freezing metal probing his skin and forcing him to feed them information, information that would be used to _kill his own brothers_ , the wires jutting out of his heat painful and _so so cold—_

Hunter tightened his arm around Echo’s side where he was tense, pulling him closer to his body and tucking his head under his chin. He felt the older clone go lax in his grip and he smiled, falling back asleep.

This became a recurring occasion in the barracks, one of the vod offering to let Echo find comfort in their embrace for the night. Wrecker liked to wrap his arms around the smaller clone like he was a stuffed toy, and Tech liked to trace series of code onto the spaces in between Echo’s cybernetics. Hunter liked to hold the clone close, making sure he could feel his stable heartbeat. Even Crosshair had offered to let Echo sleep in his bunk a few times, scratching Echo’s buzzed hair (Which was beginning to grow back) with blunt fingernails, which Echo secretly loved.

Echo wondered if it bothered them, or if he was simply acting like a homesick cadet. They assured him they liked the company just as much.

And Echo believed them.

It had been a long time since Echo had the comfort of another brother. Fives was a painful memory, burned into his brain to never be forgotten, but maybe Echo didn’t want to forget. Fives would have been happy to know that Echo was finally beginning to feel like a trooper again—like a brother.

The clones didn’t have a home. The were created and raised as cadets on Kamino, but the cold air and white walls were to foreign and strict to be considered comforting.

Before, Echo and Fives had found comfort in each other, Echo could always to to Fives and vice versa. Now, Fives was gone.

But as his brothers held him close, the faint sound of Wrecker’s snores filling the room and the warm blanket tucked under his arms,

Echo was home.


End file.
